AU2 Nancy & Murdock  A Vignette
by KennaC
Summary: This character vignette is set soon after the end of 'An Abel Beginning with a Relative Twist'. Nancy and Murdock have a heart to heart about a sensitive subject.


Hi folks - sorry for the lengthy hiatus . . . and for the shortness of this 'story'.

As usual, I don't own the Team or associated characters, though Nancy is all mine. I hope you enjoy. This Vignette takes place after _An Abel Beginning with a Relative Twist_ which I know is rather lengthy. Thanks, endlessly, to those who have had the tenacity to read the entire thing!

Oh yea, and please, please, please review!

**Nancy & Murdock - A Vignette**

Murdock wandered downstairs slowly. Nancy had been gone when he awoke, and he still felt like somewhat of an interloper in her townhouse, not to mention that the place felt cavernous compared to his tiny apartment. As he reached the bottom of the stairs he heard her in the kitchen talking to someone, and walked towards the entry. Her voice carried quite clearly to him.

"I understand that you disapprove, Uncle," Nancy said sharply, "But it is my life and in the end the decisions are up to me."

Murdock lounged in the doorway, making no effort to hide his presence. He watched as his petite fiancé, Nancy Clay, flipped the coffee maker on forcefully, her irritation apparent in every movement, but most notably in her flashing blue eyes. He was quickly learning that Nancy was easily worked up by Hunt Stockwell, her only Uncle, and her partner in Stockwell Enterprises, where he, himself worked.

"Keep in mind that everything that I've done has been with the goal of being a successful Able Agent," Nancy said, "Isn't that what you expected?"

Whatever Stockwell said, it caused Nancy's face to flush, accenting the red highlights in her blond hair, "Goodbye, Uncle," she said suddenly, punching a button on the handset and tossing it onto the counter angrily.

"So, how is Uncle Hunt this morning?" Murdock asked.

Nancy spun to face him, "I didn't realize you were there . . . "

"Just woke up a few minutes ago," he said casually.

She ran an agitated hand through her hair, turning back to watch the coffee run through the machine, "Uncle is . . . Uncle," she said quietly.

"What does he disapprove of?" Murdock asked, "Leaving Stockwell Enterprises?"

"No . . . well I'm sure he does, but that wasn't we were discussing this morning," Nancy said uncomfortably.

"Then what," Murdock pressed.

"He's still dealing with the ramifications of my relationship with Palumbo," Nancy said.

Murdock stood up, crossing his arm, "What ramifications? Is the Bureau still trying to implicate you in what happened to Littleford?"

"That, and . . .," Nancy hesitated, "Well, in his words, he finds it disturbing that I 'use sex as a weapon so casually'," she glanced over at Murdock to gauge his reaction, suspecting that it bothered him as well, and having that suspicion confirmed by the expression on the pilot's face.

"You disapprove, as well," Nancy stated matter-of-factly.

"No," Murdock said quickly, moving forward and putting his hands on her shoulders, "I understand about what's happened in the past. I guess what concerns me is the future."

"Now that we're together," Nancy said questioningly.

"Well, yea," Murdock agreed, as Nancy ducked away from his hands and walked to the cupboard, pulling down two coffee cups.

"I love you, HM," Nancy said, turning back and putting the cups by the coffee maker.

He smiled happily. He would never get tired of hearing her say that. It had taken too much effort to get her to admit it.

"I love you, too, Nan."

"Do you love me for who I am or for who you want me to be?" Nancy asked.

Murdock bowed his head, "I love you for who you are, Nan. Please don't crucify me over this."

Nancy smiled as she poured the coffee, "I'm just trying to make a point," she argued gently.

"OK," Murdock said, "I'm listening."

"I guess, in the end, I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of," Nancy said, "Having sex with a scum like Palumbo doesn't even rank in my top 10. But in the end, the 'good' that I did in the act outweighed the 'bad'."

"Good or bad in whose eyes?" Murdock asked, hearing the quotation marks around those two words in her tone.

"Let's leave that philosophical discussion for another time," Nancy said with a shrug, "What I'm trying to say is that even though I've done things I'm not proud of, in the bigger picture I accomplished goals that were beneficial to hundreds and hundreds of people."

"Sacrifice the one for the good of the many," Murdock said, "I watched the Star Trek movies."

"So, just because we're together doesn't change the guiding philosophy, HM," Nancy said, "The key is that when I crawl into bed with you it's because I love you. The rest of it is just work."

"It's called prostituting yourself, Nancy," Murdock said distastefully, "You're leaving Stockwell Enterprises. You don't need to do that anymore."

"You're right," Nancy said, "And in all likelihood I won't. But if the need arose, would you think less of me because I did?"

Murdock gazed at her thoughtfully, "If I say 'yes', what does that mean?"

Nancy licked her lips nervously, "I don't know, HM," she said quietly, "I guess it's pretty important to me. I mean, if I can sleep after it, I need to know that you can sleep beside me. No matter how disturbed that sleep may be."

"You could never do anything that would make me love you less," Murdock said certainly, "But it could take a little time to come to grips with it. Took me over a decade to get a handle on what I'd seen . . . and done in Vietnam."

Nancy moved into his arms and they held each other, "Hopefully nothing bad will ever happen again, HM," she said, then chuckled humorlessly, "Not sure how likely that is given our chosen profession. But it is good to know that you're willing to work through any of my potential future problems with me."

"It's a two way street, Short Cake," Murdock said, kissing the top of her head, "After all, I still work for your Uncle."

"Yea," Nancy said, looking up at him apologetically, "Sorry about that."


End file.
